


Pull

by abigaillecters



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: ??????, F/M, Jealousy, Oral Sex, lets pretend she's 18 ok, references to cannibalism????, younger woman/older man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigaillecters/pseuds/abigaillecters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he’s felt this kind of pull before but this, this is different. he doesn't want to take the young girl’s life, he wants to make it better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull

**Author's Note:**

> an anon on tumblr gave me a prompt where hannibal is jealous of abigail's flirtation with will. i had a completely different plan for the fic but i started writing it and this happened???? i hope you like it ;A;. also lets pretend/assume abigail is 18 okay? okay. also i was under the impression that dr. bloom was supposed to be her psychiatrist so lets just go with that yeah.

Abigail Hobbs finds herself sitting in the chair that Hannibal Lecter usually reserves for his patients. She can't bring herself to look at Hannibal so she focuses on the chair instead. It's cold and hard and she can't get comfortable.

"So, tell me about your week" Hannibal says, his voice clear and slightly hoarse.

She plays with the ends of her scarf, still avoiding his gaze. "I thought Dr. Bloom was my psychiatrist?"

"She is" he replies, matter-of-factly.

"Then why am I talking to you about this?" she finally meets his gaze.

Hannibal shifts in his seat and crosses one leg over the other. This is going to be a challenge, he thinks. He wants her to open up to him, to tell him what makes her tick. He probably knows more about her already than she does but there are still dark corners of her that he wants desperately to acquaint himself with. 

"Because Dr. Bloom is preoccupied and regrettably had to cancel your session this week. She entrusted your therapy to me for this week" his voice has an oddly soothing quality to it. 

"Who's she working with?" she's becoming more direct with him and beginning to trust him, a big mistake really.

"Will Graham," it's no use lying to the girl, she would see right through it. 

"Oh" her face perks up at the mention of Will's name.

"Tell me about him," he insists.

"What's there to tell? He saved my life and I like spending time with him. That's what I have to say about Will Graham." she looks away from Hannibal again, this time focusing her attention instead on the curtains in the room.

He has nothing against Will Graham, he even considers him one of his friends. But when Abigail talks about the man he notices a slight ache in his chest. An ache he hasn't really experienced before and doesn't quite want to address. Hannibal is not one to show that he feels jealousy but he does. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and tries to push all thoughts of her arms around Will's neck out of his mind. "It's not uncommon for people to develop strong feelings or attachments to those who have saved their lives. Do you have feelings for Will Graham?" he asks, bracing himself for her answer.

She scoffs and looks at him with a perplexed expression on her face. "Dr. Lecter, I really don't think, um, I don't quite understand what you're asking," she lies. She knows exactly what he's talking about.

"In order for your treatment to work you need to be completely honest with me, Abigail" he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands.

"I am being honest with you, Dr. Lecter-" he cuts her off. 

"If you were truly being honest with me, you'd have no problems discussing Will Graham. Your hesitation suggests you possibly have some feelings that make you feel a degree of shame," she scoffs at his words and the way her mouth opens intrigues him.

She's quiet for awhile, unsure of what to say to the man with the oddly beautiful face. 

He takes her silence as a cue to start talking again. "I've noticed the way you look at him and the way you talk to him. When you sit next to him you cross your legs toward his. I'm not wrong am I?" his voice somehow becomes deeper, slightly more aggressive. 

"I-I guess maybe...." she's stunned, to say the least.

"You want him to be your father, your brother, and your lover? That would explain the flirting I've witnessed" his breathing becomes more rapid the more he talks. He's never felt this kind of jealousy before and the lack of control it leaves him with makes him restless.

He gets out of his chair and walks around the room, using some of his nervous energy to sort through a few loose papers on his desk.

"Dr. Lecter, there may have been a brief time where I did entertain the thought of him but..." she swallows hard.

"But what, Abigail?" 

She is so close to blurting out but I want you! but she knows that she needs to be careful around him. He does care for her but he also has the capacity to hurt her if she lets him.

"I don't think of him like that anymore," she states coldly.

He looks up at the clock. It reads 6:00 p.m. Their session is over. He keeps talking.

"Are you a virgin, Abigail?" Abigail's wide eyes resemble those of the deer she had killed with her father just before the life faded from them.

"What does this have to do with Will Graham or my treatment?"

He doesn't answer her question; he merely repeats his.

"No. But I wish I was."

"Elaborate." his arms are folded across his broad chest, the fabric of his shirt tight against his muscles.

"They both finished so quickly."

"Both?"

She explains that in high school she had a grand total of two boyfriends. One serious and one less so. No, her father hadn't approved. Yes, she thought she was in love with the first one. The second one was to try to feel what she hadn't with the first; she still hadn't been able to feel it.

"Feel what, Abigail? An orgasm?" his bluntness causes her face to flush the bright red of a cumberland sauce with red fruits.

"Yes"

"Have you tried masturbation?"

Her face burns and she feels like she wants to crawl out of her skin. "...Yes, I have" she answers him reluctantly.

"And?"

"I've come to the conclusion that I can satisfy myself better than a man can"

Hannibal shakes his head disapprovingly and walks over to her chair, kneeling down and looking into her eyes. "Your problem is that you have only ever been with boys, not men. They did not care about your pleasure. But I do"

Breathe Abigail tells herself. Just breathe. What Hannibal doesn't know is that when she's alone in her room and lets her hands wander down her body to in between her legs, she thinks of him.

"Could you show me...what it's like, um, being with someone who, uh, knows what they're doing?" she shuts her eyes and shifts awkwardly in the seat.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. Hannibal gently undoes the scarf from Abigail's neck and they watch it float to the floor. Instinctively, Abigail tilts her head back slightly and Hannibal places his fingers around her throat, his thumb feeling the raised, tough flesh of her scar. She swallows and he presses his lips to her throat. His lips are cold and they feel good on her warm neck.

"You're beautiful" he whispers against her throat. She responds by leaning forward so they're faces are inches apart. Soon her lips are on his and she's opening his mouth with her tongue. She takes her time exploring his mouth, an ache between her legs that now she realizes has been there all along makes its presence known.

Hannibal moves his lips from her mouth down her neck, unbuttoning her blouse and kissing her newly exposed skin. He plants kisses down the length of her body until he stops just above the waistband of her skirt. Hands lifting her skirt up she looks down at him and nods as if to say go on, i'm ready, i want this. He kisses the insides of her thighs as he pulls her panties down and she slips out of them. He'd always wondered what her skin felt like and now here he was, a respectable psychiatrist, about to go down on a girl whose treatment he was involved in. This was wrong on so many levels but to both of them it feels strangely...right?

His lips hover over her cunt and the anticipation practically kills her. When he places his lips down in between her legs she runs her fingers through her hair and holds onto him as if she's afraid that any second now he's going to disappear. With the utmost grace and fluidity, he lifts her up so that her ass is on the edge of the seat and her legs are resting on his shoulders. She bites her lip to muffle her cries of desire. She bites down so hard she draws blood. He moves his lips back up her body and onto her mouth before she can wipe the blood away with her fingers. His kiss is gentle but has an eagerness, a harshness, to it.

She tastes like honey.

"Dr. Lecter...." she moans.

"Hannibal, please" he instructs.

"Hannibal" he closes his eyes as she says his name. Her voice is the only thing he hears.

He wants more, he wants all of her, he wants to consume her. He's felt this kind of pull before but this, this is different. He doesn't want to take the young girl's life, he wants to make it better.

The noises that she makes when he enters her are almost enough to make him come right then and there but he restrains himself. He desperately doesn't want to disappoint her as so many others had. 

He buries his face into the crook of her neck as she plants rough kisses on his. Her skin is warm against his and his muscled arms hold her close to him.

When Abigail finally collapses against his shoulder, satisfied, he picks her head up and holds her face in her hands the way he did when he first gave her the psilocybin tea. 

He kisses her once more and then releases her from his arms. They get dressed in silence. Hannibal arranges the chairs into the positions they were in at the beginning of the evening.

Abigail is the one to speak first. She doesn't know quite what to say but the silence is almost deafening. "I wish you had been my first," she looks down at the floor as she ties her scarf back around her neck.

"Miss Hobbs, would you object to another session in the morning?" the corners of his mouth are turned upwards in his trademark sly grin.

"That would mean I'd have to stay the night," she says, eyebrow raised.

"Indeed it would" he turns to face her. "I'll even make you breakfast"

She nods in approval and the two retreat upstairs, he to his bedroom and she to a guest room that could probably be called a master bedroom by Minnesota standards. She doesn't stay in the guest bed for long. Nightmares, she claims; but they both know she's lying.

Abigail never thinks, or talks, about Will Graham or her ex-boyfriends in that way again.


End file.
